Two Broken Pieces
by Ellisiv
Summary: John Smith is a sixteen year old student at Coal Hill School. He hates life at school after his friends, Amy and Rory, th only people who got him through the constant bullying, died in a car crash. Clara Oswald is the new girl with a dark secret hidden underneath her crooked smiles. Rated M for a reason
1. A friend

**AN: So this story originally started as a drabble in my collection of whouffle drabbles, but then I just started to get LOTS of ideas and it just wrote itself, so I decided to make it a seperate story since it wasn't much of a drabble anymore. It contains some mentionas of Debbie (she's from this soap that Jenna played in in 2005-2009 and I shipped Jebbie with my whole heart), but I don't think she'll show up, so I won't bother to make it a crossover. But since Debbie is mentioned let's just say that all the super feelsy stuff in 2008-2009 DIDN'T HAPPEN! Okay good.  
**

**Spoilers from Thor: the Dark World**

**Trigger Warning: Self Harm**

**OK... ENJOY**

* * *

Coal Hill School. John Smith throught his school worthy of admiration. It was neat and the teachers were nice, not _too_ nice. John hated that kind of teaher. The ones who thought they were doing a good job by letting the students do nothing. He liked fun just like any other 16 year old, but he also wanted a future. Just that. But they were still nice and also well educated. He would've loved everything about this school if it wasn't for the fact that his two best friends, Amy and Rory had died in a car crash in May, leaving him without friends. His girlfriend, River, had moved out of town and was now with a guy he didn't want to know the name of. Probably some name that just screamed «douche».

His friends had been the only ones that had gotten him through it. His forster parents, who he had fights with way too often, and the part where he was somehow looked at as the easy target of the school. He just didn't fit in. John was just like an alien to them. And the things that are strange and different from what peolpe are used to, must be beaten down at all costs. At least it felt like it was that way.

First day of school. Those four words was supposed to mean a new start, but John knew that nothing new would happen. The only thing that would happen, was endless tourment. He couldn't tell the teachers, no! What are you thinking? They'll only find out who it was that told, and that would make them angry. That would make them _very_ angry. John straighted his bowtie, one of the many reason he was laughed at, but he loved it too much to let it go, and walked towards the doors.

* * *

Mrs Kovarian, the new science teacher whom he already despised, was saying something with her head turned to the blackboard. He didn't hear what. It had turned into a buzz he just didn't wan't to hear. Science used to be his _favorite _subject. The best thing in the world. That was, until Amy died in that bloody accident. It had been so fun to have her by his side. How they always talked during the experiments and whispered during the lecture but still, somehow, always got in every single word of what the teacher said and neither of them had understood how. And she was just so easy to talk to. Just having Amy or Rory nearby made him immediately stonger and more confident. He had been happy.

He heard laughter behind him and turned around to see what it was, apparently it was the sports gang, who else did he expect? It was typical them. They were strong, popular, adored by everyone, somehow always had good grades, though they did no school work (they probably cheated). Once his big, sad green eyes found them in the left end of the classroom, their laughter quieted but they still sometimes scuffed eachothers shoulders and laughter followed and John knew it was in his direction.

John just rolled his eyes. They weren't even two minutes into the class and they had already started! Wait, two minutes? How was that possible? He could have sworn it had gone half an hour. "John, are you going to answer my question or not?" Mrs Kovarian asked. Had she asked a question? When did that happen. "Okay, John, think, whay did she ask you?" He asked himself. John didn't have a clue, but he had to answer something. A quick look at the blackboard told him that the subject was electicity. He wasn't too good in theory. Better at doing something and hoping for the best. But he had to answer so he opened his mouth to say something random out of what he got from the blackboard. John was prepared for complete humiliation and yet another thing to add to the pile of reasons to hate himself. Though, he wasn't saved by the bell, he was certainly saved. Just then there was a knock at the door and the principal came in, followed by a rather short brunette girl.

Apparently, her name was Clara Oswald, she was new at the school and she was going to be his new lab partner. It was strange having someone sitting by his side. Having someone sit at Amy's spot. It made him want to curl up in a ball and cry at first, but she was rather pleasant company. A bit shy, but it _was_ her first day.

They acctually talked quite a lot. During the experiment, she told about her mum, who had died of cancer a few years ago, and he told about Amy and Rory. It felt relieving to acctually tell someone. He had gone to therapy for a month after the accident, but it wasn't really the same, he felt. He told about the best spots outside when it was sunny and the brilliant books in the library. John wanted to warn her about all the horrible people at the school, but it was just then the bell rang and she hopped of the chair, waved and gave him a quick "See ya", before she walked out of the door.

* * *

John was sat in his little blue room with the razor in his hand. His tears fell on his arm and mixed with the blood. His forster parents were out as usual and he was left alone. There was no Amy or Rory or River. Just him. All alone. His was strarting to get dizzy when he realised that he should stop for tooday. The last thing he wanted was passing out and his foster parents finding him like this, so he hid the razor inside one of his many books and covered his arms up. Just in time too, just when his arms were covered up, he heard a car pull up in the driveway and two doors opening and closing.

* * *

Wednesday. That ment sience in third period and John wasn't certain if he looked forward to it or not. Clara seemed like a really nice girl, but she probably didn't care one bit about him. Nobody else seemed to, so why should she?

"So, how do you like it here so far?" He asked her whilst trying to take notes of Mrs Kovarian's sloppy writing at the blackboard. "It's alright. People have been nice so far, but I still kind of miss Emmerdale. Especially my girlfriend, Debbie." "Why did you move from her?" He asked. "Well, there was a series of events and my uncle, his wife and my dad thought she had a _bad influence on me_." She said with a snort. "What about you? Have you got a girlfriend?" She asked curiously. He realised she was detirmened to not be the only one who spilled the beans. "Nah. She moved shortly after the accident I told you about and was always busy. Never bothered to call, not even send a text and then next thing I knew she was with someone else and here I am." He answered.

Clara must've realised that his past was a very sensetive subject to him and switched to talking about more nice things. Like their favorite books and bands and those kinds of things. They both realised they were fans of Bastille, Mumford and Sons, Imagine Dragons and of course who doesn't love listening to Arctic Monkeys. "Hey, um, the second Thor movie is going on the cinemas this Saturday and I've got no one to go with, do fancy joining me?" She asked and raised a long brown, perfectly plucked eyebrow in question "As friends, of course", she quickly added. "No, no, no, no, no!" He told himself, "A stupid idea. You'll just make a fool of yourself and she'll laugh at you and never talk to you again!" but instead of coming with an excuse for not going he answered, "Yeah, sure, I don't have anything better to do." "Great!" She said with a smile.

The bell rang and both John and Clara jumped by the fact of how quickly time had gone. "I swear I'm a time traveler." He said "Well then I'm your companion!" Clara replied. "See you on Saturday?" She asked "Sure thing!" John answered. She then grabbed her books and strolled of and John headed towards the gym. Great. He was probably going to fall a hundred billion times. His athletic skills had earned him the nickname "drunk giraffe".

* * *

"I'm going out on Saturday", John told his "mum" whilst helping her cook the dinner. Her long ash blond hair was put in a ponytail. "You? That's great, John, you haven't been out for about three months!" She said exitingly. Sometimes he wondered if she faked caring for him. She wasn't his real mother after all. There were so many people who had been adopted and lived nicely. Who looked at their new parents as actual family, but sadly, John just couldn't. He didn't hate them or anything. They were both nice people, but he hated the fact that they took his real parents place. Why did he lose everyone he cared about?

"What are you planning on doing?" His "dad" asked. Not looking up from the paper. "Just the movies with a friend." John answered plainly. "A friend?" His dad asked. "Do I know this friend?" "Probably not. She just moved here from this village in the Dales called Emmerdale." When both stared at him with raised eyebrow he quickly added "She's got a girlfriend." And they returned to what they had been doing.

* * *

"Right, ready?" He asked as they got of his deep blue moped. "Very ready for Thor kicking ass and especially more of Darcy." "She's awesome", John agreed. "And can't wait for more of Loki, the poor thing, I just can't see him as a villain." Clara said as they walked through the doors.

* * *

"I nearly screamed at the end." Clara said as they got on the moped, her hands wrapped tightly around him. "Same here. I almost stood up and noped my way out of there and then I realised that it was the final scene..." Clara released a small giggle which got mixed with the sound of his beloved moped.

For the first time since May he acctually felt happy. He had a friend.


	2. Behind closed doors

**Trigger warning: violence, rape, child abuse (like lots of it in a serious amount)**

**first time writing actual scenes with these so critics are welcomed**

**Read at your own risk**

* * *

Clara watched as John drove away on his moped into the night. She had felt so free, so happy around him. Clara knew he wasn't okay. She knew he was sad, and maybe even more than that, because of his friends' accident and she wanted to heal him. She really did. But how could she heal someone when she didn't feel any better?

The young brunette looked towards the red door with a sign reading "Oswald". She had to go in there. The young brunette took a deep breath and walked towards the door, opening it slowly. Hoping- no, _praying_, that her dad was asleep.

"See?" She heard her dad say from the living room. Clara shivered at the sound of his voice. Of course he was awake. "A lot better to be with _boys_!" The brownhaired man said, his eyes locked on Clara.

"John is just a friend, dad, and I love Debbie. I really do." Clara answered determined. Dave Oswald let out a sigh and walked towards her. "Of course _you_ wouldn't understand that", She added. She knew she souldn't say against him. She had learned that so many years ago when it first started. Clara tried not to seem scared, tried so hard to seem unaffected by the look in his eyes. The hateful, hungry stare in his chocolate eyes.

She remembered all the times she had stood against him. It had gone alright when her mum was at home, but she had worked late very often, so there were many times it had ended painfully and difficult to hide the next day. And now that her mum was gone, he was alone with her all the time.

She stood there, slithering a bit up and down, avoiding eyecontact, when she felt the smack across her face. Clara stumbled a bit in suprise and felt a punch in her stomach, which made her lose her breath and fall to the ground.

She started to sob as he kicked her and eventually, after what felt like hours, he stopped and Clara stumbled her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

* * *

The next day had gone no better. Her father was still angry with her and the tiniest thing could give her a punishment.

Clara thought of the day her mum died. How she had held her hand in the hospital and felt her dads eyes in her neck. Her mums very last words to her had been "I love you", and it left Clara devastated when her mum had died before Clara could say that she loved her too. She knew from the drive back home that her dad couldn't be happier for her mum being out of the way. Had he ever loved her? Even for a second?

"Did you want mum dead?" Clara asked before she could stop herself. The words had slipped and now she was going to pay for it. "What?" Dave asked looking at her with the same stare as the day before.

"Nothing", Clara answered, but too quickly. "What did you say?" He knew exactly what she said, bue he wanted an excuse, though he didn't need one. Clara didn't answer, just looked down at her hands and started to bite her bottom lip.

She heard her dad let out a breath and saw his shoulders relaxing. Had he calmed down? Clara decided he had and tried to, slowly to not wake attention, stand up and move away, but she felt a hand gripping her hair and dragging her towards the stairs.

Clara whimpered in pain, and she felt herself being pushed into her bed and her dad pinning her down. She started to sob uncontrollably as he started to rip off the green dress she remembered Debbie had told her to buy, leaving her in her underwear which was next to be torn off her body.

"No, please!" She screamed as he started unzipping his pants, which was received by yet another smack. "You know you're not allowed to scream! If somebody hears you, you'll regret it!" He hissed and started to thrust into her.

* * *

Clara opened her eyes and the frantic buzzing of her alarm clock slowly came to her attention. "8:12" Shit! She had overslept and had about fifteen minutes to cover up the bruises in her face, eat breakfast and catch the bus.

She jumped out of bed, but everything suddenly turned black and she fell down again. The wooden floor was cold to her naked and bruised body. Clara let out a sigh and tried to stand up again, this time it went better and she quickly jumped into her clothes. A black dress with floral pattern and a grey cardigan.

Now for the face. The bruises covering her face were a challenge and when they all were nicely hidden she grabbed a müsli bar and ran through the door. She missed the bus, but there was no way she was going to be late on her second week. Not Clara Oswald.

* * *

She was late, though, and interuppted Mrs Kovarion's explanation of whatever it was on the blackboard.

"Miss Oswald, nice of you to turn up", She said as she wrote something down in a book. Probably something about her being sixteen minutes late for class. With a heavy breath she dumped down on the chair beside John and opened her book, though she didn't hear a word of what Mrs Kovarion said, she only came with half answers to what John told her and her mind constanly travelled back to the past two days.

* * *

"What's wrong, Clara?" John asked as he put down his lunch tray and sat down beside her in the cafeteria. "Nothing", Clara answered plainly. "I'm fine", "No, you're not. You're everything but fine. Take it from someone who knows", He answered and took her hand. "What's wrong?" He asked his eyes meeting hers.

John looked down at her arms now truly seeing them. There were some bruises there, in a deep purple colour, wrapping around her wrists. Clara noticed him looking and quickly covered them up with her cardigan. "What was that?" He asked quietly. "Nothing, I- I've got to go", She said and got up in a hurry. "Clara!" He called after her, but she had ran out.

He tried to follow her but bumped into exactly the ones he didn't want to see: Harry Saxon and his friends, joyned by the sports gang. Harry Saxon was probably one of the richest people on the school. He and his friend got everything they wanted when they wanted it, and was extremely popular. Jake Brown, the keeper for the football team, was a childhood friend of Harry and was therefore the reason why Harry's gang and Jake's gang were nearly the same thing.

"Stalking the girls now, John?" Harry asked with a crooked smile. Sadly enough, Harry was annoyingly good looking with blond hair, not overly exaggurated cheekbones and honey eyes. "None of your buisness, Harry", John hissed. "I think it is, see, she just ran away, she doesn't want you", Harry continued.

"Of course she doesn't want him, who would?" A girl called Annie who sat behind Jack said with a grin consisting of 90% pink lipgloss.

"She's gay, she's my friend and she's upset, get out of my way!" John barked, he was getting extremely impatient now, he needed to talk to her.

"You don't talk to my girlfriend like that!" Jack bellowed and walked towards John. "i wasn't just talking to her. Get out of my way, all of you!"

"You think that _you_ of all people can tell _us_ what to do?" Jack continued, "Nobody likes you! The only people who ever did died!"

"They were probably just faking it so that he wouldn't feel bad!" Harry added and everybody laughed, that was when the punches started flying.


	3. Tell the truth

"This is the first time we've ever seen such behaviour from you, John, but don't think for one second that we take it less seriously just because of that", The principal, Mrs James said after John had sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk.

"Attacking another student is unacceptable no matter what he said!" John just sat there, holding the ice against his cheek, he didn't have anything to say. He looked towards the clock, there was still some time left of the lunch break, if he got out of the principal's office quickly, he could still reach Clara before the fourth period.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs James, I was in a hurry, I needed to find Clara and they blocked the way and said so many cruel things about me and- and Amy and Rory and River. I didn't think, I just got so angry", He said, he knew the excuse wouldn't get him out, but it was a start and he meant it. Yes, there was many times he thought about giving them a high-five, in the face... with a brick, but he never actually wanted to do it. John wasn't a violent person and everybody knew it, what had happened in the cafeteria had shocked all the pupils, the teachers and most of all: himself.

"What did you need to see miss Oswald for?" She asked. Uh-oh. Should he bring it up? Should he tell about the bruises on her arms and how weird she had acted? Or should he do what she obviously wanted him to, not tell anyone? This was one of the reasons why he needed to talk to her? Ask her what was going on and who had done it and if he could help.

John had to do something, but not like this. Not like this at all. Clara was scared of whatever it was that was going on, she didn't know what had happened after she ran out of the cafeteria, and she trusted him. She trusted him to keep her secrets, but was this one of them? He couldn't just let it pass by! But then again, he didn't know what was going on. Maybe it wasn't like it seemed and he would make a huge fuzz about it.

"It's just-", tell or make up an excuse? "She had this fight with her girlfriend, Debbie, and was very upset about it.

* * *

Five minutes later he walked out of Mrs James' office with detention for two weeks, a threat on lowering his grade in order and behaviour if something similar happened, and a call back home. He then proceeded to run through the halls, looking for Clara.

"Clara?" John said as he opened the doors to one of the unused classrooms. She was sat there, in the middle of the room, by one of the desks. Her eyes not looking up as he entered the room. She hadn't bothered turning on the lights or the heat, so the room was cold and dark and lonely.

As John took a chair and sat on the opposite side of her, she looked up. Her eyes puffy and red and her lips were trembling as small, shaky breaths escaped them. John carefully reached his hand towards hers and rolled up the sleeve a little bit to reveal the purple bruises around her wrist.

"What happened?" He asked after a moment of intolerable silence. She didn't answer, just bit her lip and looked down at the desk again.

"Clara, you can tell me", He said and gave her a sad, but encouraging, smile.

"What happened?" John asked again, looking deep into her big brown eyes, tears started to stream down. "I can't tell you, I can't tell anyone", She said between the sobs.

"Yes, you can", He insisted "No!" She shouted and buried her face in her hands, letting her tears roll into them. John got to her side and tried to pull her into a hug, but she winced in pain and pulled slightly back, so did John.

"Clara, please, I need to know", The sobs had stopped but the tears kept streaming. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The bell rang and Clara ran off. He sighed, this had probably been his last chance to talk to her.

* * *

Clara hadn't run to class, but out the door, through the corridors and out into the street. Her dad was hopefully still at work, so she ran towards the little yellow house with the red door.

She knew she shouldn't skip class, but right now, she couldn't stand the thought of being at that school, with the bruises covering her skin and the massive pain which she felt everywhere. She knew that no one had seen the bruises except John, and she knew that probably no one would, but ever since John had seen them, it had felt like everybody could see the red and purple and blue marks that covered her skin. Clara let out a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding and walked towards her room.

She had some serious cleaning up to do, so she put on some music and started organising, removing dust and washing to get her mind of the stressful day. This secret was getting harder and harder to keep for every day that went and she didn't know how she could ever talk to John again without him bringing it up. She should've thought of an excuse, a way to make sure he wouldn't worry, but she had cried and said that she couldn't tell him what was going on. Of course he'd worry now.

When her room was neat once more, Clara layed down on the bed, exhausted by everything, and quickly fell asleep.

"Clara, shouldn't you be at school", Her dad said, waking her. "I got a bit sick", She said. It wasn't exactly a lie and it made him go away. The last person she wanted to be near right now, was him.

Sometimes she wondered why she didn't just tell someone. Anyone. The police, a teacher, John, Debbie or Child services. Anyone. But then she remembered why. Her dad kept saying it, and it was one of the only things she ever believed of what he said. That they wouldn't believe her and then he'd punish her for telling someone. Or that they would believe her, but that he one day would find her, and punish her for being taken away from him and him going to jail. If it was one thing she knew about her father, it was that if he wanted to punish her, he would. He always did.

* * *

John sat there in English, resting his head in his hands, letting the teacher's voice become a buzz as his mind travelled back to Clara. Who had done this to her? Why?

"Okay, start with the things you know", he thought to himself. "I'm 100% certain that she had _no_ bruises on her wrists on Saturday, so it must've happened after we went to the cinema. So, either Saturday night or sometime on Sunday. Most likely Sunday since she probably didn't go out after I dropped her off. If she got attacked on the street or something, she would tell, right?" After a bit of thinking he told himself, "Yes, Clara would most definitely tell the police or me or her dad. But she said she _couldn't tell me_! What did that mean? Why did she keep it a secret if somebody had hurt her? Did somebody threaten her? Was that it?"

There was one thing John knew: he couldn't figure this out. He had to see her.

* * *

Clara layed there on the floor, shivering and her head pounding. She didn't even know what had started it. What had made him feel like she needed punishment She had just been sitting there, with her pocket version of "The Fault In Our Stars" on her lap, reading the chapter were Hazel and August sat in that restaurant in Amsterdam, drinking "sparkling water", when he had thrown the book aside, kissing her neck as he unbuttoned her dress. Out of pure instinct, she tried to push him away and her father was certainly not happy about that.

She got up slowly, the pounding got clearer and she wanted so badly to go to the hospital. But how could she with her dad keeping eye on her all the time?

Right now her dad was in the bathroom, so she could go now, but he would notice her being away. The sound of the doorbell and a few knocks on the door woke her up from her thoughts. Clara quickly buttoned up her dress, hid the rest of her clothes under the couch and opened the door.

"Can you come out a bit?" He asked. If she said no he would wonder why or get worried so she couldn't do that. "Yeah, can you just wait two seconds?" She answered. John nodded and said "Sure", Clara then opened the door to let him in and ran up to her room.

Clara quickly jumped into a pair of tights and found her cardigan on the chair. A quick look in the mirror told her that she had no visible bruises and she then proceeded to run down the stairs whilst shouting to her dad that she was going out with John. Wouldn't risk him getting angry if he came out of the bathroom to find that she was gone.

* * *

They sat there, underneath a tree by the nearest park. There was nobody there, strangely enough since it was extremely beautiful and green, decorated with different types of trees and flowers. They could talk in peace there.

"What happened to your face?" She asked, only just seeing it. "Bumped into Harry Saxon and Jake Brown, and you see the result", He responded plainly. "Are they really that terrible?" Clara questioned, looking at his purple cheek. "I threw the first punch", He admitted. "Then they must've done something that made you do it. You wouldn't hit someone without a reason", She stated.

"I didn't come here to talk about the fight in the cafeteria, Clara. I came here to ask about what I saw on your wrist. You know you can trust", He said. "I know, and I want to tell you, but I just can't." Shit, she did it again. Said she couldn't. He was bound to worry and she was stupid enough to let him. _Because she wanted him to _Clara realised. She really wanted him to know, she wanted to tell him everything.

**AN: You might get the next chapter later today if I finish it quickly, or you'll get it tomorrow, but I won't have a lot of time for writing the next four weeks. There's an exam on Tuesday and another on Thursday, then next week, there's another exam on Thursday, a test on Tuesday the week after that and then a math exam wedesday the week after that again and then there's also 17th of May (Norwegian national day) and no way I'm writing then and then there's my brothers birthday the 18th. And I am certain that there is something else coming up that I just can't remember. Ugh, May is stressful.**


	4. You're right

**Yaaaaaay, you got an update today! There _might_ be an update tomorrow, but I won't promise you anything.**

* * *

"It's my dad who did it", Clara told, her voice weak and sore. John put his hand on her shoulder, to show support, he didn't know what else to do. "Oh, Clara...", He sighed, tears started to swell up in his eyes. "How long?" He asked after a while. "I'm not sure. He's been hitting me for as long as I remember and then when I think I was eight or something he started to-" She didn't get to finish the sentence as tears started to stream down her cheeks and quiet sobs escaped her lips.

John pulled her into a hug, making sure he didn't hold to tight as he remembered how she had winced in pain earlier, instead he placed a kiss on her head and stroked her hair softly. "It's gonna be alright", he told her. "It's going to be alright for you too", Clara answered after a few tries.

Clara looked around the school hallway. All the noise felt soothing to her. The talking from the people who walked by, the teachers shouting at the students to "keep their skateboards off the ground" or "stop the fighting this instant" calmed her down, made her feel safe. And she knew why. She knew it was because of the great distance between her and her dad.

"Brave of you to show your face today, John. Want a rematch?" She heard Jake shout as the door opened. John had arrived. Clara hurriedly went to John's side, took his hand and sent Jake a death stare that quietened him.

"We should go to the principal's office about this", John whispered. "About what?" Clara asked as John took his book out of his locker. "You know what. The things you told me yesterday", He answered, whilst trying and failing in shutting his blue locker with Marvel stickers on it.

Clara felt a lump in her throat at the words. "No, we can't, he'll be angry with me. He'll punish me", She explained desperately. "Clara, if we tell, he won't be near you ever again, he will _never_ punish you again", He insisted, holding her face in his hands.

She swallowed and looked into his eyes. He really ment it. "At least think about it", He said as the bell rang and slammed his locker shut and walked towards the French classroom whilst Clara walked towards the gym, wondering how she was going to change to her gym clothes without anybody seeing her bruised body.

* * *

John walked along the pavement, trying to cover the box wrapped in Christmas paper from the rain. As the bright red door came to sight, he saw Clara's father barge out of it and slam it shut. John quickly and clumsily, jumped behind a bush to hide.

John would bet his moped that Dave was angry about something and taken all of that anger out on his daughter. He wanted so badly to just punch him but there was no way he'd sink that low.

Instead, John waited until he was sure that Dave was gone and ran towards the door and walked in. "Clara?" John called when he was inside. He heard a low moan from the living room and peeked through the door.

"Clara!" He cried and removed his jacket to wrap it around her body which was covered in bruises and blood. Her eyes flickered open and in a moment of panic, she yelled and screamed and pushed at John, thinking he would hurt her.

"Clara! Clara, it's me. It's John, I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe", He told her. The last one was a lie, though. Her dad could come home any second and then both of them would be very far from safe.

She started to sob uncontrollably and yet again the only thing John felt he could do, was pull her into a hug, stroke her hair, tell her soothing words and let her tears damp his shirt.

After what had felt like forever, he helped her to her feet, which were shaking and her right leg had a blue bruise that had appeared due to a bad landing after being pushed to the floor.

With his hand around her waist, he half-carried her up the stairs and towards her bedroom where she collected a change of clothing and then to the bathroom where he, awkwardly enough for both of them, helped clean the wounds.

* * *

Clara laid half asleep in his arms in the little brown sofa her mother had picked when she and her dad moved in. Her thoughts always went back to her mother. Her blue eyes and chocolate curls. The stories she told when Clara was little. They weren't about princes and princesses, but adventurous. She loved reading her The Hobbit, as it was about an adventure with dragons and elves and dwarves and wizards and hobbits. Clara saw darkness in her life, so she always saw light in fiction. Ever since she was a little girl.

"Happy birthday", John said at last, his voice just a whisper and he reached her the little box wrapped in christmas paper. "I didn't have anything else to wrap it in", He explained as Clara stared at the puppies with Santa's hats, laying on piles of gifts behind christmas trees and bulbs.

Clara chuckled and started ripping the paper. She opened the box and inside was a snow globe with a little chaffinch standing inside on a branch with a little snow on it's wings. Underneath the globe, there was an engraving saying, "No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings -William Blake"

At the bottom of the box, there was a frame, Clara noticed. Curious she picked it up and saw a framed photo of her and Debbie during the summer. Debbie had her hair put up in her usual ponytail and kissed Clara on the cheek. Clara was smiling and had the sun in her eyes as the kiss reached her cheek and the photo was taken. She remembered it had been taken a few days before she was told she had to move back to London. It had been such a nice day and it felt like ages ago.

"Me and Debbie cooperated", John explained at her puzzled look. "It's beautiful, thank you, John. Thank you so much for everything."

* * *

Clara looked at the clock. Three minutes. If John didn't get to school within three minutes, he'd be late and they had Mrs Kovarian in first period who was getting angrier and angrier. "Just like dad", She thought. He didn't usually beat her senseless and force himself on her every day. At least it wasn't every day, but now- Now he was angry _all_ the time and there were so many nights she thought he was going to kill her, but every night he finished with her and left the room. Leaving her alone and barely able to move.

She hadn't gotten any messages from John saying he was sick or that he'd be late. Nothing. Clara looked at the clock again. Still three minutes. She could go and look for him. Maybe he was stuck between Harry and Jake. Maybe he was by the lockers.

She didn't find him, though, and walked to class alone.

Half an hour into class, John walked through the doors, Mrs Kovarian came with a comment on how late he was and wrote him down in a book, and with no word shed to either Clara or Mrs Kovarian, he sunk into his chair.

He looked quite down, but after a few minutes in Clara's presence, he seemed to lighten up a little and the childish grin was back in place.

"I've thought about what you said the other day", Clara whispered to him. "About telling someone, and you're right. I should tell someone."

* * *

**Woah, cliffhanger!**


End file.
